


Truth Hurts

by ussgallifrey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Break Up, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussgallifrey/pseuds/ussgallifrey
Summary: Why are men great till they gotta be great? Steve Rogers was great, until he decided to do a solo trip to return the time stones.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 65





	Truth Hurts

Bucky cautiously approaches the bench as the sun glitters off the lakeshore, a hesitancy to his posture and words. Hands stuffed into his coat pockets as he breathes out slowly, feeling the weight of the afternoon settling. You can feel the concern literally rolling off him.

“You okay?”

_Okay?_

Was that even a possibility in this moment?

That feeling must have disappeared sometime between thinking the love of your life was lost in the quantum realm and seeing the aged man with a wedding ring only moments later. Okay died there, buried in the wrinkles and graying hair of an apparent stranger.

Because whoever this man was, claiming to be Steven Rogers, he was heartless. Absolutely devastatingly heartless. As he smiled and handed the title over to Sam and barely spared you or Bucky a second glance. You watched the future that never was walk away from view.

There’s a sharp cut in your throat as you force the tears down, turning to your companion with a smile, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

* * *

Dating Captain America was a fantasy. An unbelievable _how is this actually happening to me_ fantasy. Lost in the warmth of blue eyes and a shy smile, golden hair and a sarcastic wit that slid through the cracks of the statuesque all-American icon. He was too good to be true and he wanted _you_. That was the craziest part about it. He. Wanted. You.

Oblivious to the heated glances and the sudden presence of super-soldier whenever you entered a public place in the tower. He found a reason to brush past in the kitchen, to station himself near you in the gym, and so on.

It took one failing mission for it all to come blazing to a tumultuous head. Pressed against each other in the walk-in freezer of a swanky hotel to evade the wannabe supervillain’s henchmen. Happening in slow motion and lightspeed all at once as lips connected with something similar to Thor’s lightning.

From there, it was just the rolling thunder that led to the storm. The supposed shy and timid man from a different time had no control when it came to you. And he was damn near intoxicating - a personal drug fully at your disposal.

It was good. So damn good.

And then the Accords hit. And then he was on the run. And then Wakanda. And then waking up in a jungle with Bucky and Sam and having no idea what had transpired since the battle.

It was good.

_Was_.

And then he left without a real goodbye because he was supposed to be right back. But he didn’t come back, not really.

* * *

Boys hadn’t been a strong point in your history, so the fact that Mr. Golden Boy was hanging onto your every word, unfortunately, let your guard finally slip. The purposefully placed blocks that made up the wall around your heart were slowly and deliberately broken down over the years as your relationship blossomed.

And it came to bite you right in the ass, didn’t it?

Stupid stupid girl should’ve known better. Who could compare with his original sweetheart and the man had a damn time machine at his disposal? Did you really think he’d stay with _you_?

It’s been two weeks and you still can’t wrap your head around it.

Bucky wordlessly passes his container of Lo Mein your way with a barely suppressed frown on his face.

* * *

Steve used to destroy the punching bags in the gym until he had the chance to take his aggression out on a literal God, a suit of armor, and his serum-enhanced best friend. The punching bag doesn’t fly off the hook with each jab you deliver, but you still like to pretend it’s his dumb puppy dog face anyway. 

_You’re honestly the best, you know that?_

The tape around your fingers strains and tears as you focus on the middle of the bag.

_God, I love you._

Liar liar liar. Stupid stupid girl, falling for such a liar.

_This is it for me, sweetheart. You’re all I need._

Noble bastard with the heart of gold and winning smile and dumb dumb hair. 

Collapsing on the mat, angry tears fall as you quickly unwrap your knuckles. Angry at yourself for the breakdown, angrier at him for… well… everything else.

Bucky cleans up the cuts and bruises, holds an ice pack down with a soft apology on his lips. You’re not sure if it’s for the ice or what his idiot best friend did to your heart. You don’t ask.

* * *

You wake to the fading sensation of his arms around your waist, only to be faced with the reality of an empty bed. 

A part of you still held out hope - disgusting hope - that he would return. That it was just a fluke of time travel. But the days passed and no one ever appeared outside your door to kiss away the aches and pains of a broken heart.

You ignore the unread messages on your phone, finding solace under the covers of a too-big bed.

* * *

It’s only after a restless night, when you’re faced with your reflection in the mirror, that a little bell goes off in your head.

I need a change.

Was it a universal desire to chop off all your hair after a broken heart? Or was it just a cliche that fell in line with crying at romcoms and eating actual tubs of ice cream?

Either way, you clean up and make an appointment with your salon.

It feels amazing.

Having someone else shampoo your head is at the top of the list for best touches ever - especially after becoming a touch-starved hermit for longer than you’d like to admit. And you felt like a big change, so you go for a totally out of the box color while you’re at it.

One that the girlfriend of image-heavy Captain America would never have.

And then a pedicure. And manicure. And champagne and when was the last time you did even the smallest bit of self-care? That shit needs to change. Now.

It’s more therapeutic than any session could ever hope to be.

* * *

You laugh when Bucky does a double-take in the kitchen. Having walked right past you, only to slowly back up and ogle your new hair.

“It looks good.”

There’s a hint of relief that floods your senses to know it doesn’t look like a crazy mess.

“Suits you,” he offers, seemingly transfixed on the new hues framing your face.

* * *

The triumph of taking down the Winter Soldier, even if he may have been going a little easy on you, is a blast of adrenaline. Bouncing up on the mat with an exuberant _whoop!_ You feel invincible.

Bucky just chuckles as he sits up.

“Not bad, sweetheart.”

There’s a hint of a familiar phrase that has you doing a slow turn. He’s already moving back over to his bag to swig some water. But it doesn’t sting, doesn’t pull a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of the other guy who used to call you all the pet names. Maybe it was just a slip of the hundred-year-old tongue. 

You were never great at catching onto obvious flirtations anyway.

“Think you’re up for another round?” a hint of nerves threading around your voice.

Bucky watches carefully for one long moment, setting his water bottle down and wiping his mouth with his arm.

“Sure, darlin’.”

He stalks back to the mat, keeping a good distance between you as he watches you sizing him up.

“Think you can handle this, Barnes?”

You watch the lazy smirk tugging at his lips while feeling a burst of confidence radiating from your body. It felt good, like things were actually turning in your favor - the storm cloud was dissipating. Maybe it was finally time to focus on you.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on my [Tumblr](https://ussgallifreyfics.tumblr.com).


End file.
